


a moment like this

by placentalmammal (biglizard)



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Ghost Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biglizard/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: What would it take to get Adaire DuCarte to confess to her best friend and her best friend's live-in goddess? Death?





	a moment like this

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I'm listening to the post-mortem livestream and being very touched by Ali and Janine talking about Hella and Adaire's relationship and what it finally took to get them to confess and I go "haha, I'm so glad I wrote that fic about this" and was then informed that I never actually posted the fic I wrote about it
> 
> so like, that happened

Hella relayed her not-death in bits and pieces, fragments that comprised something not-quite-whole. Adaire listened in uncharacteristic silence, her hands twisting in her lap. She couldn’t help but wonder if Hella was holding back or if she had merely forgotten certain details of her time in Adelaide’s kingdom. She supposed that it didn’t matter. She had Hella back, live and whole, so she supposed that she’d never know what had passed between her and Adelaide, so she’d do well to swallow her jealousy and just forget about it--

“She mentioned you, you know,” said Hella, cutting through Adaire’s reverie.

“Did she?” said Adaire, unable to suppress the suspicious pinch of her voice. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and smoothed her skirts. “What did she say?” she asked, trying to sound dispassionate, disinterested.

The other woman shrugged, one-shouldered. “She said you were useful.”

“Useful?” said Adaire, affronted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hella was silent for a moment. “She says she meant that there’s stuff you can do and she can’t since you’re here and she isn’t.” She spoke slowly and softly, her red-mud eyes intent on Adaire’s face. She was backlit by the campfire, which brought out the golden undertones of her skin and hair.

Wetting her lips, Adaire leaned forward in her seat. “What kinds of things?” she said, hands fixed in her lap. She longed to lean forward and close the distance between them, but she wasn’t certain whether she was _allowed._

Hella laughed softly, and for a moment, Adaire swore she saw someone else’s eyes--blue-gray, pale as mirrors--looking out of her face. “She says not to play coy. She says you know what she means.”

“Is she--” Adaire hesitated, searching for words “--here?”

Adaire’s stomach swooped at Hella’s nod, an unfamiliar hunger stirring deep in her belly. It had never occurred to her that Adelaide might be jealous of _her._

Feral, smiling, she leaned in to rest her hand on Hella’s muscular thigh. “Is this alright?”.

Hella nodded again, eyes screwed shut. “She says that she wants me to be good for you,” she mumbled, color rising in her cheeks.

Adaire felt her grin widen. “Oh?” She leaned in further, close enough to feel Hella’s breath on her cheek. “I can work with that,” she said, and she slid her hand a little further up, into the cleft of Hella’s legs.

The other woman gasped, pushing forward into Adaire’s hand. She could feel her heat through her trousers, the burning intensity of her desire. She stilled her hand and felt Hella groan, spreading her legs a little wider. “C’mon,” she said, angling her hips up, “haven’t we waited long enough?”

In answer, Adaire bent to kiss Hella’s throat, tugging at the collar of her undershirt to expose her chest. She got her teeth into the curve of Hella’s breast, sucking a bruise into her flesh, and the other woman groaned and shifted under her, arching up into the contact. Adaire’s pulse quickened--she had been wanting this for so _long_, wanting Hella, wanting to know her and claim her. She left her mark on the other woman’s body, covering her chest in vicious purple bruises, and as she did, she imagined Adelaide watching, her eyes half-lidded and her lips half-parted.

Grinning, Adaire drew back, trailing calloused fingers over Hella’s bruised flesh. “What does she want me to do with you?” she murmured, lips grazing the sensitive skin of Hella’s throat.

Hella shuddered, hands coming up to rest on Adaire’s shoulders. She swallowed thickly, and Adaire watched the movement of her throat, fascinated by the movement of her muscles beneath her bronze skin. “She wants you to use your fingers on me,” she said, breathless. “She says she’s always admired your clever hands.”

Adaire’s face heated. How long was _always_? Had Adelaide spoken to Hella about her before, on long winter nights? What had she said, had she commanded Hella to touch herself as she’s commanding Adaire now?

She shook her head. Not wishing to dwell on it, she groped for Hella’s buttons and laces, slipping her hands under her shirt. Fumbling and eager, she caught one nipple between her fingers, pinching and twisting. Hella bucked and jumped underneath her, mouth falling open in a moan. Adaire kissed her, rough and possessive, wishing in some distant way that Adelaide could feel it and know that Hella belonged to _her_, now and always.

One-handed, she loosened Hella’s belt and slipped her hand into her trousers. Hella’s hair was coarse under her palm, her slit soft and hot and _already_ so wet. Adaire ran her finger along the length of it, studying Hella’s reaction.

Hella’s face had gone very red. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, and when Adaire brushed over her clit with the knuckle of her right forefinger, her hands spasmed on Adaire’s hips. She was gentle, despite everything, taking care not to bruise, not to press too hard--

“Oh Hella,” she murmured, burying her face in the crook of the larger woman’s neck, “you’re so good for me, Hella.” Adaire pressed a finger into Hella’s cunt, using her thumb to draw slow, careful circles around her clit. Hella groaned and her tightened around Adaire’s waist, clinging as Adaire fucked her.

Grinning against Hella’s throat, Adaire crooked her finger, pressing up and backwards until she found the spot that made her sputter and curse. Hella began moving against her, hips canting upward, her face buried in Adaire’s hair. Smiling sweetly, Adaire kissed her temple and gave her another finger, savoring the way that Hella tensed and shuddered beneath her hands.

"You look incredible," she said, her voice low and rough and possessive, "absolutely perfect like this, just for me--"

"And for _her_," Hella gasped, jerking and shuddering against Adaire, "fuck, she says--she says you're being too kind, you should--should'nt just let me have my way--"

Adaire drew back, but only because she wanted to. She stilled her hand, and Hella swore loud enough for her voice to echo against the stone walls.

"That's not very nice," Adaire clucked, wiping her fingers on Hella's thigh. "Try again?"

"Please," said Hella, her voice broken, "Adaire, Adelaide, just let me come--"

“I love the way you say my name,” Adaire murmured, and she began to move her hand again. “Say it again, just for me.”

Hella cried out, babbling pleas and praise, _please Adaire_ and _I need it, I need you_ and _Adaire, please, Adaire, Adaire, Adaire._ She was so pretty like that, her legs spread, flushed and glowing and _desperate_ that Adaire took pity on her. She pressed her fingers back into her open, dripping cunt ad used her other hand to grind against Hella’s clit, rough and indirect stimulation after so much teasing. Hella came almost immediately, stifling a shout with her fist, her head bent as if in prayer. She was so beautiful like that, red-cheeked and wild-eyed, her hair tousled and slipping down from its knot

Adaire pressed her lips to Hella’s damp forehead. "You’re beautiful, Hella. I’m so lucky to get to see you like this." She swallowed thickly, thinking of Adelaide, distant and alone but devoted to Hella in the same way that Adaire was. “We _both_ are,” she said, smoothing Hella’s hair.

The other woman groaned, pitching forward and burying her face in Adaire’s chest. She was trembling, and for a moment Adaire worried that she had come so hard that she’d reopened her wounds. She ran her hands over Hella, checking for injuries, the same way she’d done a thousand times before, but Hella just burrowed deeper into her chest, arms tightening around her waist.

“She says ‘thank you,’” she said. “She says she’s glad I’ve got someone taking care of me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d take better care of yourself.”

Hella laughed. “That’s what Adelaide said,” she said sleepily, shifting her weight to settle more comfortably on Adaire’s chest. “She also said I need to eat your cunt, since she’s not here to do it.”

It was Adaire’s turn to laugh. “Maybe tomorrow,” she said, softly. “It’s been a long day and there’s no reason to rush. We’ve got time.”

“All the time in the world,” Hella agreed, and then she was asleep, leaving Adaire entirely alone. alone.

Almost.

Carding her fingers through Hella’s red hair, she spoke aloud. “I hope you’re not expecting me to worship you,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve never been one for prayer.”

In response, the gentle lap of waves on the shoreline, the echo of which sounded almost like a haughty laugh.


End file.
